


Agron's Boy

by Cheryl1964



Series: Between Vengeance and Damnation [2]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 18:31:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3739006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheryl1964/pseuds/Cheryl1964
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agron's boy holds many different meaning among the Rebels; Ahmed had learned that they are all respectful. When a new recruit uses it in a disrespectful manner Nasir gives a much needed lesson in respect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agron's Boy

Agron’s boy. Two words that held a variety of meanings depending upon which lips it fell from.

 

Agron’s people used it with affection and respect. Since the time they had joined the rebels at Lucius’ temple; Agron had gained their respect. They often deferred to him even over Spartacus leadership. Yet Agron was unwaveringly loyal to Spartacus and the Germans by extension just as loyal.

 

Donar had once explained to Ahmed that in this strange land; they had forged themselves into a clan where tribal rivalries no longer held meaning. Yet the ways of their people still held sway. Agron had proven himself a strong leader and among them held position equal to that of chieftain. Agron’s people were a fierce lot; and a chieftain would only have one as fierce himself standing by his side for any length of time. Nasir had held that spot for as long as they had known him. Nasir was considered Agron’s equal and the title ‘Agron’s Boy’ was meant to display that respect.

 

Those who carried the branded ‘B’ on their right forearms also spoke of Agron’s boy. It was spoken with a bit less awe than uttered among the Germans; but it still carried a connotation of position and respect. It was Crixus who spoke of a fallen gladiator called Barca; known as the Beast of Carthage. Barca had a boy when they yet dwelled within the Ludus; a young man fair of face and form that Barca had claimed as his own. By position of being Barca’s boy; Pietros had enjoyed protection; yet that protection had stood only as long as Barca. When Barca’s life had been stolen from him by Batiatus; Pietros was fair game for any who thought to take Barca’s place.

 

Yet Crixus held no fears of what would happen to Nasir should Agron fall. Nasir stood among them as a brother. Once who had not only stood against Roman might with barely a fortnight’s training at sword; one who had suffered grave wound and prevailed against Hades himself where many a gladiator had suffered defeat and been dragged to the afterlife. Nasir carried the mark of his victory on his side a scar in the shape of the fiery sword that had been pressed against his flesh to seal his wound. Among the gladiators; Nasir stood equal to any branded by ceremony.

 

Yet those who had recently joined the rebellion spoke those two words with contempt. The connotation being that of Agron’s whore. They saw only one who had by Roman whim been forced to the role; whether in brothel or villa of privileged Roman. A thing Nasir did not dwell upon; yet he did not hide his former position. For many Nasir stood as inspiration of the heights freedom offered. No longer were they held as objects for Roman amusement but as men and women and to discover and express talents the gods had gifted them with.

 

However there were still those who would not accept that a body slave holding such beauty could achieve any goal through their own effort and had to be raised by the will of another. And so they now found themselves here. Gathered in a crude circle the rebels would test the skill of those newly joined; among them those who had uttered the phrase “Agron’s boy” with snide contempt.

* * *

 

“Are you sure about this?” Spartacus asked as Agron joined him and Ahmed after breaking quiet words with Nasir.

 

“I would not have him insulted at every turn.” Agron said. “Yet if I were to be the one to give lesson to those who offend; I would but prove words of wagging tongues.”

 

“Nasir must demonstrate to them that the respect he holds comes through effort of his own hand.” Ahmed said. “Agron’s people see him as Agron’s equal; the gladiators see him as brother. Respect that he has earned and that is understood by most. Yet those newly joined see him as simply another slave and judge him by their knowledge of what he should be by their understanding.”

 

“Body slaves being but toys or tools to their Dominus.” Spartacus said.

 

“As my brother once stood.” Ahmed said. “He has risen above such within the rebellion. He has grown into the warrior he would have been had fate not intervened.”

 

Crixus who stood on the other side of the circle watched as a new recruit was handed a training sword. Nasir gave a small smile. The man was larger than he was; but of no concern. After all Nasir had trained under the tutelage of Agron and Spartacus himself. However the reason for Nasir’s smile was the constant remarks this one made that started with the words Agron’s boy. Whispers that had reached the ears of those who set up this test; Agron, Crixus, Spartacus, even Ahmed.

 

Crixus gave his trademark mad grin. “Begin!”

 

The fool looked at Nasir and snorted. “You send him? I would face a man!”

 

Nasir calmly took a step forward and smacked his blade along the man’s ribs. “It is a man you face. One who would see what challenge you offer.”

 

“Boys such as you should not play with the weapons of men. Lest you risk injury.” The man countered. “Go tend to your man; or better yet send him to face me!”

 

“You stood Pastore did you not?” Nasir smirked as he danced in and slapped the man with the flat of his blade again. “Give me challenge. See me fall and face Agron.”

 

Lugo’s laugh rang out. “He fears Little Man!” The Germans now all joined in the laughter.

 

Pollux suddenly shouted out “Pastore! A pale shadow of a gladiator. Good only for protecting goats. Nasir will see him to dirt soon enough!” The remaining gladiators now added to the laughter and jeers.

 

“If the fool would but fight!” Crixus yelled. “Answer challenge or see yourself forever tending to goats!”

 

Spartacus sighed. “Time wastes. If he will not show us what skills he holds; let Nasir give demonstration of his own.”

 

“I see no flaw with your logic.” Agron grinned.

 

“Nor do I.” Ahmed added. “This one could use a lesson in false assumptions.”

 

Nasir shrugged and launched attack against the man causing him to call upon all the skills he had been taught.  Nasir soon stood over the man who picked himself up off the ground and held a hand to his bloodied nose.

 

“Is that the extent of a Pastore’s skill?” Nasir asked. “Your Dominus must have been relieved of many goats if so.”

 

“I was the most skilled of the men serving in his household!” The man yelled and launched himself at Nasir.

 

Nasir side-stepped the charge and landed another blow on the man’s flank knocking him to the ground again. “I begin to think you join us in fear of the man’s wrath in having lost all of his goats to bandits of more skill.”

 

“Nasir grows as sarcastic as you were upon first meeting.” Spartacus said. “A trait I fear shared by all from the lands east of the Rhine.” The Germans were laughing uproariously at Nasir’s comment.

 

“We but wrest what joy we can from life when presented.” Agron chuckled.

 

“A sarcastic wit is not reserved only from those from Germania.” Ahmed said. “Our grandmother could best the greatest of our warriors with nothing more than the strength of her words.”

 

“Nasir stay your hand.” Crixus yelled. “The man holds not the skill to stand against you. A lesson I pray he takes to heart. There are children in encampment with more skill.”

 

 

Nasir knelt to the man’s level. “Remember you ended upon back at my feet the next time you choose to break the words ‘Agron’s boy’.  I am much more than a pampered body slave serving Dominus. Those days are memory of days long gone; never to be revisited. I am a warrior of the rebellion trained by the Bringer of fucking Rain, The Undefeated Gaul and a Beast from the lands east of the Rhine. All gladiators who stand undefeated upon its sands.”

 

Nasir stood up and looked down on the man then tossed the wooden sword to Crixus who tried hard not to grin at the fallen man’s embarrassment.

 

Gannicus tipped his jug of wine and took a deep drink. “If I stood as you.” He said to the Pastore who had gotten to his feet and shuffled off the makeshift training field. “I would avoid crossing paths with Agron’s boy in days upon horizon. I have a feeling he’ll not be as gentle next time.” Gannicus chuckled as he made his way over to where the Germans were congratulating Nasir on his victory.

**Author's Note:**

> Pastores, meaning "herdsmen", were trained to herd livestock belonging to their dominus. They travelled across wide stretches of the Italian countryside at their master's discretion, and were permitted to carry weapons to protect his property against thieves.-  
> http://spartacus.wikia.com/wiki/Slave


End file.
